


No Bitterness Will Reach Us

by edenbound



Series: If We Wake To Discover [Crowley and Aziraphale raise Adam] [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21858871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenbound/pseuds/edenbound
Summary: Aziraphale's left holding the baby (literally). He's not best pleased with Crowley.Set during 'If We Wake To Discover', a canon-divergence fic in which Crowley and Aziraphale raise Adam. In terms of the other ficlets, it comes after 'It Must Be For Something' but before any of the others.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: If We Wake To Discover [Crowley and Aziraphale raise Adam] [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1436134
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	No Bitterness Will Reach Us

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from 'Eden', as ever with this series. [Lyrics](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/10000maniacs/eden.html); [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OB0C2g7851U).

"You're driving me to distraction, you know," Aziraphale tells the squalling Adam. It doesn't noticeably improve matters, though he hadn't really expected that it would in any case. "This is Crowley's job," he says, addressing one of Crowley's plants as he walks past it. He has been walking up and down for at least an hour, having found that is the only thing that even remotely helps to calm Adam's whimpering cries. "This is all his ridiculous idea, and he's the one with experience."

The plant quivers gently, uncertain about how to handle an angel in this sort of mood. Demons it thinks it understands, but angels are a whole new proposition.

"I don't know what he's even gone out for," Aziraphale tells it, irritably, on the next pass. "Probably using this opportunity to get ahead with a temptation or two. I should never have let him out of my sight."

The plant is almost relieved for the reprieve when Adam throws up on Aziraphale's shoulder.

* * *

"Where on Earth have you _been_?"

Crowley flops down into a chair, slinging a leg over the arm in a most discomforting manner. "Checking up on things," he says, vaguely. Aziraphale takes a deep breath.

"Checking up on things? I'll have you know that Adam's been crying non-stop nearly the entire time you've been gone!"

"Important things," Crowley says, without a flicker of apology. He runs a hand over his face, taking off the dark glasses. Aziraphale's about to argue more, but Crowley gets there first. "Checking up on whether we're observed. Turns out that Adam is already affording us some kind of protection. Hastur couldn't even see me, even when I tweaked his nose."

Aziraphale's mouth twitches. "Literally?"

"Obviously. And I checked up on our files on the two of us and there's zip. Wrote a request for someone to check up on me last time I went down there, and found it in the dustiest corner of Ligur's desk -- and he would lose no opportunity to make my life a misery, trust me. They're just not thinking about us at all." He rubs his forehead a little. "I can't speak for Heaven, obviously."

"I... I hadn't thought of it," Aziraphale says, a little dismayed. "I -- I must apologise, I was thinking such uncharitable -- "

Crowley waves it away. "How's Adam?"

"Well... he's been crying a lot, as I said. Lots of vocalising, at first, but then I suppose I wasn't responding properly and... He tired himself out, in the end."

Crowley hauls himself out of the chair. "I'll go and check on him," he says. Aziraphale follows, berating himself for it but drawn all the same to the tenderness that floods out of Crowley when he's holding a child. It's a feeling he could get addicted to, Aziraphale knows; the love of a parent for a child is always strong, but Crowley is thousands of years old. His love and tenderness have had time to age, like fine wine, and though there's always something sad about the tenderness he feels for a child, that makes it all the more sweet -- especially to someone who witnessed his devastation at the loss of his last child.

At least to a discerning angel. Aziraphale is well aware that any other angel would smite Crowley without even noticing that tide of love, unsuspected by Aziraphale himself for too long. A demon shouldn't be capable, but, well.

Crowley's different, that's all.

Different enough that here he is, scooping Adam out of the cot and settling him in his arms in one smooth movement, already smiling. "Whoa there, little one," Crowley says, as Adam draws breath to cry. "It's me. I'm home."

Adam's vocalisation in response is a torrent of babble, but Aziraphale realises with a start that there is one word or sound combination that is being repeated, and was being repeated by Adam before the tantrum began. "Crowley," he says, a lump in his throat. "He's -- "

"Da _da_ ," Adam says, quite firmly and clearly, reaching up to pat Crowley's face. There's something proprietary in the motion, like Crowley belongs to him.

Aziraphale has to turn away to hide his own reaction to the floodtide of emotion all wrapped up in the love he feels from Crowley.

* * *

"Angel," Crowley says, some months later, interrupting him in the middle of a paragraph, "you need to look at this."

"Mmm?" Aziraphale asks, without looking up. He's vaguely aware of Adam crawling around somewhere close to his feet, but really, Crowley's watching him and everything must be alright, and this is really quite an interesting --

"You'll miss it," Crowley says, warningly.

"Mmm."

"Angel," more firmly now, "it's Adam."

So Aziraphale looks up just in time to see Adam raising himself to his feet, grimacing with the seemingly Herculean effort, gripping onto Aziraphale's trousers with sticky toddler hands.

"Oh," he says, softly and in wonder. He entirely misses the way Crowley is watching him, the look in those slitted golden eyes, because there is suddenly no room for anything but Adam's small determined face as he holds onto Aziraphale's leg.

This is why Crowley does it, he thinks, dazedly. There's no going back from this moment, no denying that he is here, with Crowley, to keep this child safe against all comers. It no longer matters that this is the Antichrist -- it's _Adam_ , and Aziraphale belongs to him as surely as Crowley does.


End file.
